center stage
by not a straight trumpet
Summary: Kumiko finds Reina somewhere she'd have never expected to.


**a/n:** this is what happens when you see an overrated movie and then meet with family friends you haven't seen in a year all in quick succession. angst. angst is what happens.

this is also like the first time i've ever written anything in reina's pov? weird.

* * *

Kumiko regretted it as soon as she stepped into the bar. Neon lights flashed overhead, yet they seemed to do nothing to make the room any brighter as people rubbed up against each other, just shapeless blobs in the dim building.

"Go to a bar, she said," she muttered, tightening her hold on her purse and silently deciding to give Natsuki hell as soon as she got back. "It'll be fun, she said." Kumiko knew, of course, that her longtime friend simply wanted the best for her, but it was hard to feel much other than resentment when her head was pounding and the room was already starting to spin. The tinny pop song faded from the speakers, and Kumiko hardly noticed.

"What'll it be, ma'am?" the bartender slurred, an infectious smirk on her face that reminded Kumiko of a certain senior euphonium she hadn't seen in years.

"Uh, I'm j-just walking around. Visiting." Kumiko shifted awkwardly in her spot, toying with the brown leather purse she'd bought at a yard sale a few months prior. "I'm not going to buy anything, I didn't even really bring any money." The bartender's entire expression seemed to droop, her piercings looking like they'd slip off in sadness if Kumiko said another word.

"Oh. Alrighty, then. Have fun."

"I will," she said, though she was having about as much fun as one would while drowning, or perhaps being set on fire.

"It seems like we've got a special guest tonight!" A man's voice rang out across the bar, sounding mechanical through the speakers, and the whole bar went silent. "We'll be having this lovely lady here for the next few weeks." The room erupted into applause before the supposed star even walked onstage. Kumiko craned her neck to see, her heart feeling like it was rattling in her chest.

 _It's probably just the noise,_ she reasoned with herself, even as her chest squeezed up and the "guest" stepped up - a young woman, dark hair cascading down her shoulders. She held a silver trumpet that glinted among the strobe lights that nobody seemed to have bothered to shut off, and Kumiko felt like passing out. "No," she whispered. "It's not her." It wasn't until the person standing beside her raised an eyebrow that she realized she'd spoken aloud.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm f-fine," Kumiko sighed airily, waving them away with a hand as she plastered a cracking smile on her face. The trumpeter lifted the instrument to her lips, and Kumiko nearly did pass out. She sounded nothing like the Reina that Kumiko had known and loved and fallen for a million times over in high school - a cheap tune trilled from the gleaming silver, one that could've been beautiful had it not been for the sheet music in front of her and the horrid acoustics of the bar. She was a ballerina in a living room, a bird with its wings clipped, tamed and weary. Kumiko wanted to throw her arms around the woman who was now bowing to the audience between songs, to hold her and never let go, to fall back into time with her.

All she could do at the moment, however, was watch in saddened silence.

* * *

The girl seemed to deflate, Reina noticed, as soon as she walked into the too-bright spotlight. She couldn't see her, and yet she couldn't take her eyes off of her. The six-foot-tall person standing beside the girl nudged her shoulder, and Reina finally managed to tear her eyes away from the crowd.

"Hey, ma'am," her employer whispered. "Are you going to start now?"

"Right, yes, of course." Reina doubted that the girl had even noticed she was there - blackout drunk, probably, or maybe just an incredible lightweight who'd tripped on someone's shoelace. She played the trumpet without another thought, letting the music consume her until she felt light-headed and dizzy, ready to fall away from this bar into the deepest reaches of space, where nobody could hear her. She kept her eyes on the godawful sheet music, a melody she'd know how to play in her sleep, and still she played. _This is a far cry from becoming special, isn't it?_ She felt trapped, almost ready to throw up, the cheap music entangling her until there was nothing left.

* * *

 _"You're heading back?"_ Natsuki's voice came out garbled through the phone, but Kumiko could understand her regardless. _"I thought ya hated it."_ Kumiko fiddled with her bedsheets, very suddenly wishing that she had a wall phone with a cord she could tangle between her fingers.

"Reina . . . Reina's there." Natsuki's end of the line went silent. "It's her, I know it is." Kumiko could hear a long sigh coming from the phone.

 _"She's gonna break your heart."_

"I know."

 _"Things can't just magically go back to how they were."'_

"I know."

 _"What's there for you, then? What're you going to get out of it?"_ Kumiko set the phone down, looking at her worn wooden desk and the sky, inky-black, out her window.

"Closure."

* * *

Kumiko felt like an old-timey detective sneaking into enemy territory in disguise, an olive green cap perched on her head as she pressed her back against the wall.

"Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea," she scolded herself, but the villain had already taken center stage and the exits were blocked. The crowd whooped as she lifted the trumpet to her lips, just as she had the night before, and Kumiko thought for a moment that it was a strange crowd to be listening to classical music (or a horrifically garbled version of classical music, anyhow, cheap sounds that felt so broken and tired that Kumiko wondered if this was even the same girl she'd known in high school), all covered in shirts decorated with skulls and flames, yelling as Reina played the song.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice melodic even through the tinny microphone. Kumiko inched closer to the stage, and with every step it became clearer and clearer that this was indeed her, and that she was indeed as weary as everyone seemed to be. Reina looked down to see Kumiko staring up at her, and it was like the stars had been thrown out of line and scattered to nothing.

* * *

Reina felt faint when she saw the familiar pair of owlish brown eyes looking to her, the face she'd tried so hard to forget. Kumiko awkwardly waved a gloved hand.

"Hi," she said. Reina kept a shaky hold on her trumpet as if it were a weapon.

"I'm going to be taking a break for the next few minutes," she spoke into the microphone, struggling to keep her voice even. Kumiko stepped aside to let her hop down, and she didn't hesitate to take her by the hand and drag her out the door.

* * *

"What are you _doing_ here?" Reina hissed, finally letting Kumiko go once they reached the rainy alleyway that the bar opened into.

"I don't know," Kumiko admitted, and it was the truth. She was utterly lost, utterly confused, and utterly in love. "I didn't even want to come here, Natsuki told me to go out and make friends and then I ended up in this place, and then there was this bartender, and-" Any words that might've come after that were smothered by Reina pulling her into a hug. "Oh."

"I don't want you here."

"You're giving me mixed signals here, Reina." Kumiko pulled away from the hug. "That's not why I'm here, though."

"Why, then?" Reina stepped back, as if waiting for Kumiko to pull her back in.

"You're b-better than this. You're special, aren't you? Why're you here, then?" Reina narrowed her eyes.

"You're under the impression that everyone gets their dreams when they grow up. That isn't true. I'm managing, I'm doing something that I love, and that's enough for me." Reina began to walk away. "Goodbye, Kumiko."

"Reina, wait!" Kumiko reached out her hand and grabbed Reina's, and it was as if the rain stopped just for the two of them.

"I'm going to be here for two more weeks," Reina murmured. "We'll have time to talk then." She tugged away her hand, walking down the rain-soaked alley, and Kumiko felt a strange hope budding in her chest, against all odds. The stars had started to come out.


End file.
